Chapter Text
James Potter sat cross-legged on the Quidditch pitch.
When he opened his eyes, he recognized the golden hoops and house flags stationed along the perimeter of the bleachers. The sun beat down on his bronzed skin as he stood and craned his neck for any sign of another person, but no. He heard nothing. He saw no one.
He made his way slowly towards the castle, all the while watching vague memories flash before his eyes. Inside his head, there was a constant murmur: Lily, Lily, Lily, it repeated endlessly, Lily, Lily, Lily, Lily, and then a near-silent whisper of Harry.
James entered the castle and his heart sped up inside his chest. Not even on a Hogsmeade weekend did the castle echo so loudly. The suits of armor lining the walls made no move, did not watch James as he crept past, did not creak with weight or sigh with boredom as he made his way further into the hallway. Filch’s stomps did not echo throughout the stony corridors nor was there the faint clicking Mrs. Norris’s claws. The paintings, too, were devoid of their subjects. Pausing outside of the kitchens, James heard no clanging of pots and pans, no water running or food preparing.
Lily’s face sat at the forefront of his mind. She looked at him with her green eyes, her milky, freckled skin, her auburn hair lounging gracefully over her shoulders, but a look of complete terror transformed her features entirely: green eyes wide and dark circles underneath as though they’d taken permanent residence on her face; her skin not only fair but pallid, ghostly white.
The Fat Lady’s portrait swung open at James before he could even marvel at the fact that the Fat Lady was gone. He entered his common room and, aside from the crackling of a fresh fire, only silence met his ears.
He made his way towards the chair closest to the fire, hoping the warmth would ease the chill settling deep into his spine. The eerie silence rang throughout the common room as James worried over his wife.